


Past and Pending

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [22]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Chronic Pain, Disabled Character, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medication, Murder Husbands, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Physical Disability, Possessive Oswald Cobblepot, Psychopaths In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: “Sleepyhead,” Edward murmured, hands warm up and down the expanse of Oswald’s aching back.Fighting his impulse toward an uncharitably cranky response, Oswald kissed Edward’s shoulder.[Falls in sequence if you read this series, but this is mostly stand-alone fluff.  For Day 3:Domesticof Nygmobblepot Week.]





	Past and Pending

Oswald drifted for a while in hazy half-awareness, unable to get back to sleep. The way he was draped across Edward meant he didn’t lack heat, but it wasn’t doing his muscles and joints any favors. _March fourth_ , he thought. Nearly three weeks of travel had taken their toll.

“Sleepyhead,” Edward murmured, hands warm up and down the expanse of Oswald’s aching back.

Fighting his impulse toward an uncharitably cranky response, Oswald kissed Edward’s shoulder.

“Thoughtful of you,” said Oswald, “having Fish leave lilies for my mother while we were gone.”

Edward shrugged under him, lips pressed to Oswald’s temple, wrapping his arms tightly around Oswald’s waist. There was so much comfort in the gesture that Oswald marveled at it.

“I’d never let her grave fall into neglect,” he insisted. “You know that, Oswald. Not after…”

“Some son I am,” Oswald scoffed, wincing at a stab of discomfort. “Not making arrangements.”

“You were too busy making our _travel_ arrangements,” Edward said. “Always thinking of me.”

“You’re the only person who’d continue to act on a command even after the giver’s out of prison,” Oswald sighed, twisting his arm up from beneath the covers to play with Edward’s hair.

“Arkham isn’t prison,” muttered Edward, “but it might as well be.” He sighed in contentment.

Oswald stiffened at the next spike of pain, so unbearable it left him tense and fearfully gasping.

“Oh,” Edward whispered, loosening his hold in concern. “Oh _dear_. Oswald, what—”

“Leg’s bad, back’s worse,” Oswald managed, shakily attempting to catch his breath. “I can’t…”

“I’m going to move you,” Edward said, his tone tinged with regret. “It’s likely going to hurt.”

With a bitter laugh, Oswald nodded. “It can’t be any worse than you manhandling me all over hell and creation back— _when_ —”

It was so excruciating to let Edward roll him over that the result was Oswald whimpering at the ceiling with tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. Edward knelt beside him, leaning into Oswald’s blurred field of vision with a frown. He set a tentative hand on Oswald’s chest.

“I told you to take some painkillers before bed,” Edward cautioned. “But you brushed me off.”

“Then go _get_ them,” Oswald winced, afraid to even risk clutching at him for emphasis.

“Right,” Edward said, climbing gingerly off the bed, causing minimal disturbance. “Just a sec.”

Oswald wasn’t surprised at the pills Edward nudged past his lips a few minutes later. They tasted like a combination of codeine and the muscle relaxant he avoided taking at all costs. 

“No complaints,” Edward said, tipping Oswald’s head up as he pressed a glass to Oswald’s lips.

Oswald swallowed difficulty, choking slightly as Edward lowered his head back onto the pillow.

“I gave you cyclobenzaprine with your hydrocodone,” Edward continued. “You’ll fall asleep.”

“I can fight my way through the painkiller on its own, but not the…that’s not the name I’m familiar with,” Oswald grumbled, trying to remember the brand. “I don’t speak pharmacist, Ed.”

“Flexeril,” said Edward, helpfully, cozying down next to Oswald under the covers. “That?”

“Whatever,” Oswald sighed, closing his eyes, nuzzling into Edward’s t-shirt covered chest.

“Occurs to me you probably shouldn’t have those on an empty stomach,” Edward said. “Oops.”

Oswald grimaced. “I feel like I’ve ordered you around too much for first thing in the morning.”

“I was going to ask for a _different_ kind of ordering-around,” Edward quipped, winking with rueful mischief, “but that’s out.” He sat up again, fussing with the covers over Oswald. “Should I ask Olga for toast?”

“She might be running late,” Oswald said. “She says having Sveta around is…an adventure.”

“Why’d the niece come to Gotham?” Edward asked, donning his dressing gown. “Financial woes?”

Oswald was beginning to feel pleasantly lightheaded. “They killed her worthless boyfriend.”

“Dear me,” Edward said, his expression suggesting delight. “We had eventful trips all around.”

“I know a thing or two about that racket,” said Oswald. “Glad I didn’t have to do it for them.”

“You would have,” Edward said, bending over the bed on his way out. “You take care of us.”

“Please hurry up,” replied Oswald, faintly smiling at him, “and get on with taking care of _me_.”


End file.
